


Intimacy

by pencilguin



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: M/M, Non-Sexual Intimacy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2020-12-27 02:34:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21111251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pencilguin/pseuds/pencilguin
Summary: A variety of prompt-based one-shots about Hugh Culber and Paul Stamets.





	1. Playing with Hair

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Discord, all of these prompts are from a list themed "[Non-Sexual Forms of Intimacy](https://tendateahouse.tumblr.com/post/186865229482)". Usually no content warnings apply, but where necessary, they will be added in the notes for each chapter. 
> 
> These are unbeta'd, so I apologize for any mistakes.

It’s a slow night in and Paul and Hugh have snuggled up on the couch. Hugh is reading a novel, the fingers of his left hand absent-mindedly playing with Paul’s soft hair. Solving some puzzles or brain teasers on his PADD, his form has basically melted down and now his head is resting on Hugh’s chest. He sniffs and scratches his head briefly, then his attention is back on the problem to be solved, but it startles Hugh enough to look up. 

Seeing Paul immersed in his puzzle makes him smile. He leans down and kisses the top of Paul’s head, and receives a content little hum in response. Then he takes another look at it and giggles quietly. 

“What’s funny?” Paul mutters. 

“Gray,” Hugh says softly. 

“Hmh?” 

“Your hair. It’s getting gray streaks.” 

“Oh.” Paul looks up at him, his face upside down. “Really?” 

“It’s hard to see. A very light silver, almost white.” 

“What else is new?” Paul mumbles, and Hugh chuckles a little. 

He’s turned his attention back to his PADD now, but Hugh can see that his eyes aren’t moving. 

“Guess I’m getting old, after all,” Paul says after a while. 

“You are,” Hugh responds with a smile. 

“What’s funny about that?” Paul turns his face up again, brows furrowed. 

“Nothing. I’m happy.” Hugh’s hand starts gently scratching Paul’s scalp while he talks, and he can feel Paul relax into the touch. “You’re finally catching up to me.” 

“I’m older than you,” Paul comments. 

“But my gray hairs have been showing for a few years now.” 

His expression softens and he smiles up at Hugh. 

“I love your gray hairs.” 

Hugh automatically smiles back. 

“I know. And now I get to love yours, too.”


	2. Falling Asleep over Video Chat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt request from [DanceWithMeForScience](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DanceWithMeForScience).

“The entire station’s still in quarantine lock-down until we can get this virus under control.”

“Seriously?” Paul responds, affronted. “What does Starfleet think they’re doing, locking you all up in there?”

“It makes sense,” Hugh explains calmly. “It’s a standard protocol, although luckily one that doesn’t have to be used often.”

“Except now.” Paul’s mildly surprised that Hugh seems to be handling this so much better than he is.

“It’s for everyone’s safety.” A soft smile plays around his lips. “I appreciate your outrage, but as a doctor, I have to think of everyone else first. Though you’re really cute when you’re pouting, so I appreciate that.”

Paul feels himself blush, but he also relaxes, his features soften and melt into a smile.

“No timeframe yet?”

“No, I’m afraid not.” The image of the video feed shakes, more violently that before, as Hugh lets himself fall down on his bed, PADD in hand.

“It’s been two weeks already,” Paul says, trying to sound casual about it but probably failing. Hugh isn’t fooled. Not that Paul expected him to be. He’s brilliant, after all, and he knows Paul all too well.

“You’re worried about next month.” It’s not a question.

“It’s only a week and a half until your planned leave.”

“I know, Paul…” He runs a hand through his short hair, then looks back up at the PADD he’s holding slightly above his head.

Paul sighs.

“I understand all this, of course. And this is why I love you.” He allows himself a moment of honest selfishness. “But I was really looking forward to meeting up again.”

“I know,” Hugh says quietly. “Me too.” Fondly, he reaches out and lets his fingers brush over the screen. Paul returns the gesture. If he closes his eyes for a moment, he can almost imagine the warmth of the actual contact. If only there weren’t light years between them right now.

“I miss you,” he simply says. It’s not meant as a complaint. Just a simple truth.

Hugh smiles.

“They kicked me out of the infirmary because I stayed way past my shift again and I’m dead on my feet, but my head’s still full and I don’t want to be alone right now. Will you keep me company until I fall asleep?”

“Of course. I’ll be at the lab for a few more hours, though, so I won’t be able to provide you with much entertainment, I’m afraid.”

“You’re entertainment enough, boo.”

Paul finds himself smiling again. Hugh turns over to his side and puts the PADD on its stand on his bedside table. He looks soft, but also tired, Paul notices now. He also notices how much he misses seeing him from this angle.

“Tell me about your day.”

“I’m afraid there’s not much to tell. What do you wanna hear?”

“Anything. Any new progress? Anything from Straal?”

“I could read you Justin’s weekly report if you want to fall asleep.”

Hugh chuckles, but it sounds subdued as he’s already closing his eyes.

“Anything, really. I just like listening to your voice.”

Paul watches him, his chest feeling fuzzy and warm inside.

“Okay.”

He talks about anything and nothing in particular, rants about a stupid little mistake that nobody had noticed for weeks until it had ruined a whole set of samples for good, the gossip that their assistants won’t shut up about, Justin’s back and forth with Amelia… the stuff Hugh usually likes to hear about. In between he glances at the screen and sees him a little more relaxed and calm each time, until he eventually finds that Hugh has fallen asleep, and occasional quiet snores accompany his steady breathing.

Paul lowers his voice as he keeps talking, and eventually he can barely keep his own eyes open any longer and decides to wrap it up for tonight. As quietly as he can, he tidies up and leaves the lab, heads home and into his own bed, where he does as Hugh did and puts his PADD on the nightstand next to him, leaving the feed still open, and it doesn’t take long until his snores are in sync with Hugh’s.


	3. Touching Noses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt request from anon.

Paul shivers, violently. He pulls the thermal blanket tighter around himself.

“Hang in there, boo,” Hugh says reassuringly, but his voice is quiet, too.

Paul squints at him, barely daring to open his eyes. If he opens them too far, he fears his eyeballs might freeze.

“The captain said two more hours,” he mutters in response. “Do you think we’ll make it until then?”

Hugh hesitates.

“Be honest,” Paul urges him.

“We should. As long as they’re not late. Two hours should be okay. More than that? Gonna get dangerous.”

They fall back into silence after that, pressed against each other for warmth.

“I’m cold,” Paul says after a while. He notices how quiet and weak his voice sounds. So does Hugh. He looks worried. Paul notices that his lips are taking on a blue tint. He tries not to imagine what his own, pale skin looks like by now.

They haven’t heard back from the Discovery in a while, and it worries him. With shaking fingers, he fumbles for his communicator under the blanket. Half an hour left of the two-hour time window.

“Isn’t there anything else we can do to stay warm?” he asks.

Hugh thinks on it for a moment.

“We have to conserve as much energy as possible.”

“And reduce our surface area to keep in the warmth,” Paul adds. “Can’t we layer the blankets and wrap them around both of us?”

“That would work,” Hugh says slowly, shaken by another involuntary shiver. “But we have to be quick. Exposure to the air around might be fatal.”

Somehow, with a lot of clumsy wiggling around, they manage, although they both draw in sharp breaths for a moment when they lift the blankets and cold air washes over them. Soon after, they’ve wrapped themselves up in the fashion of a cozy, human-sized burrito. Here is Hugh’s familiar warmth, being surrounded by his scent, their arms wrapped tightly around each other’s bodies, all those sensations Paul is still getting used to feeling again. Being back together thankfully makes it less awkward now, stranded in this shallow cave on a subarctic climate planet. Despite the direness of their situation, he feels himself relax, at least a bit.

“If we don’t make it,” Hugh begins after a few minutes, and his voice sounds quiet and tired, “I just want you to know that I love you.”

“Shush,” Paul responds, but he, too, can feel his body slowing down, the exertion even from something as simple as moving his jaw to speak. “Don’t say that. I just got you back. We’re not gonna die here.”

“I’m just being realistic. It’s a possibility,” Hugh mutters. “And I’d don’t wanna regret not having said it, you know.”

An understanding smile creeps onto Paul’s face.

“Of course. I love you, too.” He closes his eyes. “There are worse ways to die, I suppose, than in your arms. I just really hope I won’t survive this if you don’t. Don’t ever need that again.”

“Paul…”

He regrets making Hugh sad. Ice crystals have formed on his lashes and in his eyebrows. There’s a macabre beauty to it. Hugh moves his head forward, bringing their lips close together.

“Don’t—” Paul pulls back. “If we kiss now, our lips will probably freeze together.”

It’s cute to see Hugh’s brows furrow.

“That’s homophobic.”

Paul chuckles. “I know.” He stares at Hugh’s lips, still so close to his, still as distracting and alluring as they always are, especially up this close. “Man, I wish, though.”

“You know,” Hugh muses, “some of the peoples living in cold climates used to rub their noses together instead of kissing, or so I’ve heard.”

“Huh.”

“Like this?” Hugh lets the tip of his nose touch Paul’s. The contact creates a bit of warmth, and the closeness still makes it feel nicely intimate. Paul moves his head a little, rubs his nose against Hugh’s, and it makes them both giggle. Feeling Hugh’s breath on his face calms him down, too.

Soon, he begins to feel himself get sleepy, and occasionally they both have to nudge each other to stay awake, until their rescuing party finally arrives.


	4. Philosophical Discussions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt request from [OrmondSacker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrmondSacker).

Hugh’s absent-mindedly playing with Paul’s hair with one hand while holding his PADD in the other. Paul, with his head resting on Hugh’s chest and the rest of his body mostly melted lazily all over him as they’re both snuggled up closely in the comfortable armchair on the porch, is working, with special permission from Hugh only because he’s got a report from Straal to look over and send back before it’s midnight at Starfleet Headquarters in San Francisco. He’s reading on his own PADD, making the occasional annotation, and managing not to complain about Hugh quietly humming bits of opera every now and then.

It’s been a vacation on a rather short notice — Hugh’s suggestion, after seeing Paul increasingly distressed over being forced to join Starfleet and hand over his work to have spaceships built based on his and Straal’s design. After a little persuasion, and a strong medical recommendation for a change of scenery, they’ve met up for a one-week trip to visit Hugh’s family in Puerto Rico. Paul says he’ll never get used to the weather here, and he’s been sick of the smell of sunscreen since after the first day, but he’s deemed it an acceptable trade-off for enjoying the hospitality, warmth and kindness of the family that had already adopted him as their son-in-law right from the start, despite him and Hugh not being married (yet). Coming back here has turned out to be exactly what he needed.

Hugh shifts and puts his PADD down on the little table next to them. He rubs his eyes and stretches a bit, all while trying not to disturb Paul in the process.

Paul turns his head to look at him. “Taking a break?”

“No, I’m finished.”

“You’re a fast reader!” He sounds impressed. “So what do you think?”

Hugh hesitates for a moment, and eventually smiles at him. “I can see why you like it.”

Paul’s mouth, too, forms a smile. He puts his PADD down as well and wiggles into a more comfortable position for talking. Hugh wraps an arm around him.

“I can also see why you recommended it to me now.”

“Look…” Paul begins. “I know you’re Starfleet, and I _know you_. I’m sure you believe in them. But I can’t share that faith. Because _this_—” he points at Hugh’s PADD on the table— “is always in the back of my mind.”

“You believe that any idea that has been brought into the world is at risk of being used for corrupt means.”

“Which is why it is my duty as a scientist to prevent that from happening.”

“And you think that Starfleet is such a corrupt organization?”

“We are in the middle of a war. They say they want to use our science for propulsion, but what good is gonna come out of it now? Why do you think they waited until now to pressure us into giving them what they want?”

“I thought Straal said it was his own decision? Hasn’t he been trying to convince you for months?”

“Come on, Hugh,” Paul argues. “You know free will only goes as far as the circumstances allow it. Of course he ‘decided’ to join Starfleet, and so did I. But would we have done it if we had better options? No. Otherwise, we’d have enrolled there from the start.” He sighs. “But anyway, now it’s done and I can’t take it back. My duty as a scientist still stands. As long as I can retain any control over what they are going to do with my creation, I will do everything in my power to prevent its abuse.”

Hugh pulls him a little closer, presses a kiss to his temple. “I know you do. And I trust your moral compass, I really do, babe. But, just hypothetically speaking, what if a scientist doesn’t have that? What about those that are morally corrupt themselves? Then you can’t rely on them, either.”

Paul ponders this for a moment. “I suppose you still need an aware and educated public. You know, the greater scientific community. Scientific advancement is never a one-person job. Even with our niche research we have a whole team working with us. You need to leave hierarchies at the door and everyone needs to be allowed to raise ethical questions to keep each other in check. That’s another reason why I don’t trust military structures like Starfleet.”

“But,” Hugh argues, “even those aren’t the be-all-end-all of decisions and regulations. Unlike some militaries of the past, every Starfleet officer vows to take on a moral responsibility. We don’t check our conscience out at the door. If you witness misconduct from a superior officer, it is your duty to speak up. You can’t make excuses that you were ‘just following orders’. We’ve learned from human history.”

“And that’s always clear-cut and easy?” Paul asks him, his deep blue eyes piercing through Hugh in the dim light of the evening. He doesn’t respond. “Didn’t think so.”

“We’re still human,” he finally says quietly. “All we can do is try our best, and use our potential for good.” They sit in silence for a while before he adds, “Give me a day or so to think on the story. Then we can continue this discussion, if you like. Which doesn’t mean I disagree with you, by the way,” he adds with a smile.

Paul snuggles up against him and gets back to his PADD to finish his work. Hugh’s hand finds its way back into Paul’s hair, while his eyes wander over the scenery in front of their porch, and his mind wanders somewhere far away.

“Have you heard about who’s going to be your captain yet?” he asks after some time.

“No, do you have any news?”

“I checked my messages earlier today and my friend Angela let me know that apparently they’ve chosen Gabriel Lorca for the Discovery.”

Paul looks up. “Do you know him?”

“Not personally, no. But from what I’ve read about him, he’s alright. Reliable, efficient. Gets straight to the point. You probably won’t like him anyway.” Paul scoffs, making Hugh smile. Hugh thinks for a moment before he continues. “He’s been in psychological rehabilitation for several weeks, after an incident early during this war.”

“Hm,” Paul responds. Hugh isn’t sure if he’s waiting for more, but he doesn’t say anything and so Hugh decides to leave it at that, too. No need to worry Paul with his own unanswered questions before all this has even started. “As long as he lets me conduct my work and my research in peace I hope I won’t have much to do with him. I shouldn’t be concerned much with command, right?”

“I hope so,” Hugh says. “And I’m glad that at least you’re not feigning supernatural visitations to protect your work.”

“I just know that you would see right through me, doctor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (The book discussed here, by the way, is once again "The Physicists" by Friedrich Dürrenmatt.)


	5. Massage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt request from [Freespirit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Freespirit).

“Urgh…”

Paul looks up when he hears the door swishing shut and footsteps crossing the room, followed by a heavy object dropping onto the mattress with a loud groan. A little smile curls around his lips.

“Hi, honey.” He shuts off his PADD and puts it on the coffee table, then slides off the comfortable armchair he’s been sitting in with his feet on the seat and partly tucked under him, to wander over to the bed. “Bad day at work?”

Hugh groans again. Again, it’s muffled by the fact that he’s lying face down on the covers. He’s not moving otherwise and still in full uniform, including his boots. “Don’t get me started.”

Gently, Paul sits down on the bed next to him. Hugh only minutely reacts to the way his weight dips down the mattress. He lets his hand trail down Hugh’s back, eliciting a slightly softer noise than before. “D’you wanna talk about it?”

At first, Hugh only lets out a humming noise, as if he isn’t sure yet himself. As Paul leans over and starts taking Hugh’s boots off, he begins to talk. By the sound of it, he’s turned his head slightly to the side so Paul can hear him better. “Three patients going into critical condition nearly at the same time. We didn’t even know where to start. Then a few more patients got sent in from that rescue mission.”

Paul continues to peel off his socks, remembering to drop them down the laundry chute because he doesn’t want Hugh to complain about it in the morning if he just leaves them on the floor again. “That sounds exhausting, honey.”

“I didn’t even have time for a meal break.”

Paul continues by removing Hugh’s uniform pants, which is much more difficult when Hugh does nothing to help with the task — like right now, when he just remains lying where he is without moving. Luckily, if there’s anything Paul truly excels at, it’s getting Hugh out of his pants.

“Not. A. Single. One.”

“And you always scold me for skipping meals.” It’s said softly, snark without bite, as he climbs onto the bed and straddles Hugh, before leaning down to press a kiss to the back of his neck. Thankfully, Hugh already unzipped his jacket before flopping down on the bed, which makes getting it off him a lot easier than the pants were.

“This was just one time.”

Sitting back, Paul observes his love fondly. Hugh’s speech is sluggish, slurred even, from exhaustion, and Paul can practically _see_ the tension in his entire torso, even through the white undershirt he’s still wearing. He firmly runs both hands down the length of Hugh’s back, from the shoulders down, applying enough pressure to gauge what he’s dealing with. Hugh moans with what sounds like relief.

“Let me help you,” Paul mutters, leaning down a little closer to his ear, his hands traveling up and down Hugh’s back before he grabs the hem of the undershirt and pushes it up. “Relax.”

Hugh complies, but not before lifting himself up just enough so he can wiggle out of the shirt with Paul’s help, leaving it where it lands between their pillows. “Thanks, love.”

Paul smiles, picks a bottle of oil from the bedside drawer and starts massaging Hugh’s back in silence, apart from occasionally humming along to the soothing twenty-second century East Andorian blues that he’s been listening to while reading and that neither of them bothered to turn off. (Not actual blues, of course, as Hugh always insists, but Paul could simply _never_ remember what the proper Andorian name for it is.) Hugh lets out the occasional approving noises while Paul works all the knots out of his back, feeling the tension melt away under the touch of his hands.

After a while, Hugh gets quieter, until slow, even breaths are the only sounds left coming from him.

Paul stops and smiles down at him. The scent of the oil, along with the tenderness of the quiet moment, has made him properly sleepy, too. After running his hands up and down Hugh’s back one more time, he leans forward to place a kiss between his shoulder blades. Then he settles down on top of him and draws the blanket up around them. He knows Hugh won’t mind; he’s used to this, and it’s Paul’s favorite place to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, thank you so much to everyone who leaves lovely and supportive comments on my fics! Even if I usually don't know how to adequately respond to them, please be assured that they make me super happy and brighten my day! <3


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